This is a song about "Wrist work"

You feminine as wearing a wrist locket,

I know the world been waiting for that

Mostly cause niggas hate you, tryin to fill up your plate

Money made delayed as i cut my wrist with this blade

And of course, my car's off course

My gun your scars, your wrist your calls

Puttin in work, to much work,

Too focused, one word

Y'all niggas come last, i'm first though

Work that wrist im the maestro,

She slit her veins, only to feel her wrist in pain.

I rather give you my last to see you live again

Fame hall inhabitant spray the tec wrist throbbing

You little niggas little league i'm the real thing

Keep that tucked ‘fore somebody get hurt

I work hard, nigga put in work